


The Days Before

by InsufferableYetPleasant



Series: Wake of the Killing Game [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, No donuts in this one, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma, it's really there, naegiri if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 13:55:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30022791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsufferableYetPleasant/pseuds/InsufferableYetPleasant
Summary: The survivors of the Killing Game have just received syringes that will restore their memories.Takes place in an AU where Junko lied and the world didn't end.
Series: Wake of the Killing Game [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2208540
Kudos: 17





	The Days Before

**Author's Note:**

> So turns out Opened Doors *was* part of a series! What an amazing twist!
> 
> This takes place before Opened Doors, so be aware.
> 
> (Not too pleased with this title, so pretend I had something better.)

Law enforcement had approached them that morning, an uncomfortable-looking man who avoided eye contact. He had with him a box of six syringes. Kyoko had answered the door and he had handed her the box, face twisted in pity.

“We finally finished checking them out. They’re safe to take. If you want to,” he mumbled at her, his hand lingering for a second on the box before he turned and left. Kyoko watched as he returned to his car, a black chariot that would not look out of place at a funeral. She pushed the thought from her head, glancing down at the box.

Shortly after the survivors had escaped the Killing Game, the government had sent in squads of troops to clear the remains of the now-abandoned Hope’s Peak Academy. It didn’t take them long to find a set of fourteen syringes accompanied by a short note.

_Memory Cure <3_

One last gift from Junko.

Of course, the government refused to hand over syringes of unknown fluid, and instead kept them for study. After several months, they had finally succeeded in reverse-engineering the serum, confirming that it was in fact safe. After signing a host of papers, the syringes were finally being turned over to the survivors.

“I’m not going first,” said Byakuya.

“I mean, somebody has to.” Hiro’s arms were crossed. “Obviously not me, though!”

“N-nobody’s making me go first. I w-won’t do it.”

“Toko,” Byakuya replied. “Take the serum.”

Her eyes widened. “F-fine!” She grabbed her syringe and raised it to her arm.

“Stop!” Makoto’s voice echoed through the room. “Let’s all do it at once.” He glanced around. Hina and Hiro nodded, and there was a resounding dearth of grumbling from the other three.

Kyoko spoke. “Let’s all close our eyes. That should make it easier.” Byakuya looked at her, narrowing his eyes.

“Okay!” Hina’s voice was resolute. Her eyes swept the room, daring anyone to defy her. “Everyone get ready! We’ll do it on the count of three!” Everyone lifted up their respective syringes.

“One. Two. Three!” Hina shut her eyes as she injected the serum into her arm. As she finished the injection, she dropped her syringe onto the table. She heard the clattering of several more as the others did the same, and so she opened her eyes.

Four syringes lay on the table. Makoto’s face was filled with worry as he glanced around at the others; Byakuya’s, with curiosity. Toko had her eyes closed and was mumbling something under her breath. Hiro gazed blankly at the table as though in an attempt to scry something, anything, even as he fidgeted with his empty syringe. Kyoko gripped hers tightly for a moment before pocketing it and gathering up the others.

The six of them sat on their chairs and waited.

Kyoko and Byakuya stayed composed, unsure of what to expect -- or when. Hina impatiently rapped her fingers against the table as Hiro hummed some quiet tune to himself.

“I beg of you both, please stop.” Byakuya’s arms were crossed, his face now a mess of frustration. “It’s bad enough just sitting here without any control over the situation. Must you make it annoying as well?” Hina and Hiro, both chastised, timidly stopped their noisemaking.

“W-why is this taking so long? Why can’t it be d-done already? I have important things to do, you know.” Toko was hugging herself anxiously, tense with apprehension.

Makoto spoke up. “Well, we can’t really do anything to hurry it up, so I guess we just have to wait it out. It’s gonna be alright, don’t worry.”

“Easier said than done,” replied Byakuya, eyes still on Kyoko.

Then, they were silent.

It hit Toko first and she froze, eyes wide in fear and fright. After a few seconds she stood and stumbled back against the wall, shivering. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, and her eyes were unfocused, seeing nothing.

Hina remembered shortly thereafter, immediately jumping up from her chair, tears streaming down her face. Eyes blurred, she looked around, her eyes soaking up everyone in the room. As she broke into heavy sobs, she made her way over to Toko, engulfing her in a hug. Toko stiffened, terrified, then tightly returned the hug, shutting her eyes as hard as she could in a vain attempt to stop the memories flooding into her now-aching head.

Makoto had his hands in his pockets, his shoulders slumped forward in an attempt to make himself as small as possible. Concern and pity were obvious upon his face as he gazed at the two girls with preemptively reddened eyes. Kyoko’s eyes moved between the three of them, the slightest downward quirk pulling at the side of her lip; it was the smallest change, but enough to give away her unhappiness to the others.

Yasuhiro regained his memories next and he took it in calm shock, blinking away the mist in his eyes as he leaned forward against the table, resting his head over his crossed arms and looking up at Hina and Toko with a look of such personal hurt it stabbed deep into Kyoko’s heart. She longed to say something to him, but she didn’t know what. The realm of emotions was not to her strength; she was useless here.

Then Byakuya remembered. He managed to sit calmly for several seconds, his face feigning disinterest. After a long moment, his face shattered, blanching, and he ran from the room, hand covering his mouth.

Hiro rose unsteadily from his chair, concerned for his friend, and followed Byakuya down the hallway only to see him slumped over the toilet, heaving up hot bile and cold regret. He stayed until his stomach had ceased churning and pushed himself back to lean against the bathtub’s side, eyes wide in self-hatred. “Chihiro…” he murmured, almost disbelieving, glaring in rage at his own shaking hands. As the first tears began to force their way onto Yasuhiro’s face, Byakuya turned with a pained yell and slammed his fist against the wall. He punched through the drywall. Hiro turned around slowly to return to the others as collision after collision sounded, wretched and caustic, from the bathroom.

Kyoko, an unwanted frown breaking its way through her stoic facade, nearly collided with Hiro as he turned. Her eyes were focused on the bathroom and she moved to shift around Hiro, trying to make her way to Byakuya. Hiro grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

“Is he okay?” she asked.

“No,” he replied. 

He moved his hand up to her shoulder and guided her back down the hall towards the room where the others mourned the old deaths of their new friends.

Hina and Toko were now crouched on the floor. Toko was crying openly now and the two of them gripped each others’ hands in commiseration.

Makoto’s memories returned last. He scared himself with a sudden gasp and a quiet cry, flinching and unbalancing himself. He crashed down onto the floor, slipping out of his chair as hot tears streamed down his face. Frantically he backed himself up, pushing his way along the floor until he reached the wall, shielding his face with his hands as though to hide from his newfound memories.

A few moments passed before Kyoko made her way over to sit down next to him. After brief hesitation, she placed a hand on Makoto’s shoulder, her face a thin but sincere show of sympathy. Almost unconsciously, he scooted closer, and his hands left his blotched face, falling to the floor at his side.

As Hiro watched, Kyoko’s eyes met his, and her gaze was quickly replaced with a warning glare. He nodded in understanding, and made his way over to the two crying girls, and settled down next to Hina with his arms wrapped desperately around himself. Leaning into the corner, tears began to accumulate on his face, and eventually he was weeping freely, but without a sound. Without sparing a glance, Hina reached over and pulled him, too, into her embrace.

Byakuya strolled into the room, his face a carefully-controlled mask of indifference despite the tear-streaks along his cheeks.

“Are you all just going to-” His words were cold and quiet, dripping with a false condescension, but he betrayed himself as his voice broke. He, too, let himself slip down the wall to sit on the ground. His weary and reddened eyes scanned the floor, settling with pity on Makoto opposite him. Kyoko did not notice. Kyoko’s eyes were closed.

Byakuya Togami sat alone, as was befitting.

They stayed like this for what felt like hours, the only movement being Hina who had made a round through the room, making sure to hold everyone she could. Kyoko, with great hesitance, returned her hug. Byakuya did not.  
A part of him was desperate to.

When she hugged Makoto he burst into sobs anew, and so did she. They held each other the longest under Kyoko’s watchful eye.

Eventually, Toko broke from their stupor, climbing wearily up to her room. Yasuhiro followed next, then Byakuya. “I shouldn’t be here,” murmured Kyoko, dragging herself reluctantly to her feet and making her way up the stairs with carefully-couched strides. Only Makoto and Hina were left, sitting next to each other, both of their faces painted in tears and shock.

As they sat in shared sorrow, Makoto slowly noticed that Hina was muttering something. Her voice was barely a whisper, and only with serious attention could Makoto hear what she was saying.

“I’m sorry, Sakura. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

With nothing that he could possibly say to her, Makoto pulled Hina closer. Tears flooded both their faces in silence.

Kyoko sat on her bed, gazing at the syringe she held in her hands, pondering. Even if she hadn’t outright lied to the others, she knew she had betrayed them. She rested the serum on the bed besides her, eyes closed in regret. Still, she knew she’d do it all the same if given the option. Maybe she was just weak. She hadn’t wanted the others to see her like that.

She hadn’t taken her serum yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, there you go! Once again, a fan of all constructive criticism, so throw it at me. I want to get better at writing this sort of thing, both in concept and in execution.
> 
> I've got more incoming, hopefully, and they're looking to be longer! So keep following along, I guess.


End file.
